[Hook: Gift Money]
I said the city man, they love our sound
They ride around...just like me
They want that real shit, the truth
That grown man music for the youth
Just like me
And we plan and we plot and we gain
Write a rhyme that'll take away your pain
And these other niggas just not the same
What a shame...they not like me
[Verse 1: Gift Money]
I'm indulging in the finer things
Making love, soiled sheets from vagina stains (yeah)
I buy my wifey all kind of things
She a queen, keep me flyer than a private plane
Nigga, bitch nigga fuck the fame
Gift Money guillotine, kill them with the killer slang (slang)
So official with the wordplay
Tongue dipped in linen, young nigga keep your bitch away
Body every track I'm on, feeling like the shit today
Nigga what you talking bout, hating me won't get you paid (paid)
I'm in the shade but I'm shinning
Baby powder flow, what what P say (science!)
Let these niggas know, got me posing like the Heisman
Nigga we be bliggidy, Ceiling Fan riding
Burghtown threnody, bringing out the holy ghost
Make the beats, write the rhymes, film our own video (oh boi)
[Hook: Gift Money]
I said the city man, they love our sound
They ride around...just like me
They want that real shit, the truth
That grown man music for the youth
Just like me
And we plan and we plot and we gain
Write a rhyme that'll take away your pain
And these other niggas just not the same
What a shame...they not like me
[Verse 2: Prototype]
Ha!
When the evil emcees gathered
I was laid up with my chick like it ain't matter, we living (like a motherfucker)
On my life was the plot
On the kitchen stove was the pot
In my notebook was the rock (crack)
They wanted the land, the food and my mental but they couldn't have it
Belligerent minds do scatter off
Hancock, Jungle Fever, Spike Lee, designer jeans
That's Type...that's right
Bligg with the Snooky bitch...light, camera, ac-ti-on
Nigga this the jack move, take them fucking skinnys off (what the fuck nigga)
(breathe) Breathing is never labored...baby
Mistress with arms, Tyra be gone, bad bitch...rabid
Black on black is back, Gift grab the fucking llama
J Murda straight up pass me the Henny Obama
Sunk in a chair, revenge is here, we still at large
Prototype, James Cameron, rounds of applause
Get dome IMax, X-Box, the Avatar
[Hook: Gift Money]
I said the city man, they love our sound
They ride around...just like me
They want that real shit, the truth
That grown man music for the youth
Just like me
And we plan and we plot and we gain
Write a rhyme that'll take away your pain
And these other niggas just not the same
What a shame...they not like me
[Verse 3: Gift Money]
Sipping on connoisseur
Feeling good, cause I didn't see the cops today
Ok kay kay
Pay attention everything that I come across
And never judge anything, that's how you catch a loss
Not a facaud
Sh-Shawty like my melanin
Said she like that thug shit, plus I'm so intelligent (no doubt)
Fantasies of Cadillacs that turn to spaceships
Poetry colorful, nigga taste it
Edgar Allen, Shakespeare, Langston
Slit my wrist, blood coming from my ink pen
[Prototype]
Yes sir, they never love ya till ya eyes gloss, cataract shit
To the Hyphen, deceased date, jump out my casket
Catcher Freeman...black Bruce Waynes
Murder John Waynes who shot a free man
Burghtown the Monte Carlo, Cassa Blanca, Minka Aire...Ceiling Fans
Oh boi
[Hook: Gift Money]
I said the city man, they love our sound
They ride around...just like me
They want that real shit, the truth
That grown man music for the youth
Just like me
And we plan and we plot and we gain
Write a rhyme that'll take away your pain
And these other niggas just not the same
What a shame...they not like me
